


The Stowaway

by Ameliorably



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8538550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameliorably/pseuds/Ameliorably
Summary: In which Margaret comes home for Korea with a little more than she bargained for and has to figure out what to do with her barely recognisable life.





	1. Chapter 1

Margaret sat, stunned, holding the paperwork from her discharge from the army. Stunned is how she's spent the last few months. Stunned is also how she was when she realised that she'd brought more than herself home from Korea, and that she had another life growing inside her. She didn't just feel stunned, she felt hijacked.

One by one her constants were being taken away from her. The war had ended, she'd been had morning sickness so bad that she could barely work, none of her clothes fitted her anymore and, what distressed her most of all was the fog that had descended upon her mind. She felt dulled. She was Margaret Houlihan. She'd always felt sharp in her work and almost always in control, only suddenly she wasn't. Having times when her mind suddenly felt completely empty, or having her mind regularly wander when she was instructing her nurses was one of the most disconcerting thing she'd ever experienced. She didn't like it.

But that was all over now. At 20 weeks gone she was past being able to hide her now obviously swelling abdomen under her uniform and the army had seen fit to relieve her of her post. Discharge, medical. Reason: Pregnancy. She didn't feel relieved, she felt stripped. Stripped of one the last vestiges of the person she knew herself as. Tears that had been threatening to fall since she'd sat down, spilled past her eyelids, and ran down her face. She supposed now was as good a time as any to go and find her child's father. She assumed he was still living in Crabapple Cove and, if not, his dad at least would still be there. She hadn't intentionally not told him. Once the initial shock had worn off she'd just put all of her energy into surviving, into forging ahead. Now that her work in the army was done, though, she'd come to a sudden and uncomfortable stop. She supposes now is as good a time as any to go for a long drive, she has to do it eventually. Margaret walks to where she keeps her suitcase and grabs it and starts shoving her meagre possessions inside, wiping her tears as she goes. Her face has begun to feel more like a fountain. She was starting to appreciate the fact that she'd taken a posting at the VA in Vermont and not California like she'd planned. She'd originally written it off as weakness on her part, weakness because she'd wanted to go and find Hawkeye before all this started, but it was going to make her trip to Maine a hell of a lot easier Margaret looked down at her watch and calculated that she could get there by about dinner time. It wasn't so much that she was worried about dinner, just that suddenly she felt an urgent need to see certain former chief surgeon.

Daylight was fading by the time she arrived. Margaret looked down at the address she had written down and then back up at the house she'd stopped outside. It looked like something out of a picture; a large, two-storey, weatherboard house, complete with attic windows. It couldn't be less like the swamp if it tried. She wanted to flee, to go straight back to where she'd come from. She can't do that so she gives herself an order, _Come on, you're a Houlihan. Breathe in and move it._ She takes a deep breath and gets out of her car, hurrying up the front steps and ringing the doorbell before she has the chance to have a second thought.

She hears his muffled voice inside. "Dad, are you expecting anyone?"

She hears another voice answer a negative. She's trembling now. What will he say? Will he tell her to get packing? Will be even believe that it's his? The door opens and he stops dead. Clearly he was not expecting to see her. Margaret takes one look at his face and bursts into tears, which, given the look on his face, is also not something he was expecting.

"Margaret? Margaret, what's wrong?"

She doesn't answer and he gathers her into his arms. He pauses when he feels her abdomen against his and pulls away slightly to look down. "Margaret, you've grown!"

 _Gee, I hadn't noticed_ , she thinks to herself, but bites back her sarcastic retort. She's only just arrived, she can't yell at him yet. She just nods helplessly and breaks into a fresh bout of tears. She doesn't even know why she's crying, but then that's fairly common these days. As he pulls her close again the concerned face of Daniel Pierce appears around the door frame, "Everything alright out here?"

"We're fine, dad, just coming inside," Hawkeye says, putting his arm around her waist and gently guiding her indoors. He takes them into the living room and onto a sofa, not letting go of her the entire time. Daniel notices this and quirks an amused eyebrow. He imagined this story was going to be a good one. He leaves them alone to go and continue what he'd been doing before the doorbell had rung.

"When did this happen?" Hawkeye asks, gesturing to her middle.

Margaret supposes she should be grateful he didn't ask how. She opens her mouth to reply but shuts it again when Hawkeye keeps speaking.

"Though by the size of you and the fact that I just found you on my doorstep, I'm guessing sometime just before we left Korea; possibly that one time after an O Club session?"

Margaret nods once, and looks down. There it is, all out in the open. She feels his fingers under her chin as he gently brings her eyes up to meet his.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I... knew something was off about the time we'd finished wrapping up the 8063rd, but I didn't find out for sure until after I'd been posted at the VA hospital in Vermont."

"Vermont, eh? You weren't thinking of yours truly when you made that choice?"

She blushes and smacks him on the arm, continuing, "I didn't know how you'd react, especially given what happened on that bus. I hid it as long as I could because so that I could pretend my life was normal. I needed to figure out how I felt about it all. The army was familiar. I needed familiar, everything else was changing! Now time's flown by without me feeling one way or the other about being pregnant, and the army's discharged me, and if I have to live one more day by myself I'm gonna go crazy!"

"Stay with us for a while, or forever, as long as you like."

"Really, your dad wouldn't mind?"

"Mind? He'd be delighted!"

"I missed you." she murmurs quietly, almost embarrassed at even allowing herself to miss the man. She still had to remind herself that this wasn't the old days, that she actually quite liked him, or more, even, and that there was nothing wrong with it.

"I missed you too" he says, beaming at her before scooping her into a tight hug. He loosens his hold on her but doesn't let go, and she doesn't protest, because it's nice and no one's hugged her since she left Korea..

"So, magnificent Margaret, how do you feel about being pregnant?"

"Honestly? Just kind of strange. I mean, I'm not completely unhappy. Sometimes the thought of having a baby is quite nice."

Hawkeye gives her a squeeze. He was far happier about this than she thought he would be, but any further discussion is put on hold when Hawkeye's dad comes bustling into the room with a tray of steaming mugs which he unloads onto a table.

"Dad, this is my dear friend, Major Margaret Houlihan, finest nurse and fabulous human being, and this," he said, gesturing towards her abdomen, "is your grandchild."

"My what?" He drops the now empty tray he'd been holding.

"Hawkeye! What have you done to this poor woman!"

"Why dad, given you're a doctor I'm sure I don't have to explain to you the leading cause of pregnancy."

Daniel shakes his head and turns to Margaret. "Lovely to meet you my dear. I've heard a lot about you - all good things!" he says quickly, noticing the look on her face. At that she turns and looks at Hawkeye in shock.

He looks indignant, "What? You're a fine human being."

Daniel rolls his eyes at his son and turns to Margaret.

"How'd you end up with this idiot?"

"Ha, I sometimes wonder that myself, though I don't think it was my brain." _No, it was your heart, you silly woman._

Daniel smirks, "Well, congratulations to the both of you. Now, I've just gotta finish making dinner, so I'll see you two in a few minutes."

"Thanks dad." Hawkeye turns to Margaret, "A baby, Margaret, a baby!"

"Why are you so happy about this?"

"Because it's great! Something good has come of the war! Wait, you're not happy?"

"I just told you, I'm not _un_ -happy."

"But that's not the same thing."

"I haven't had time to be happy! Everything's been changing; my body, my mind. Nothing's the same, nothing fits, and I don't even have the army anymore for stability! I don't know what's up, what's down or what's going on! I'm hormonal. I've cried more since getting pregnant than I have my entire life, and what are we to each other? What are we going to do? Where am I going to live?"

"Margaret, calm down, it's okay. We'll work something out."

It's not okay! Aren't you even a little bit scared?"

"Sure I'm scared, I've never been a parent before. It's just that looking at you all round and cute, and with my baby no less!" His eyes are crinkled with excitement and glee. He's far more relaxed and affectionate than she's ever seen him. He's even proud of himself. _Men_. But she can't help but feel a little touched. This was certainly not the kind of reaction she'd been expecting. She expected disbelief, even doubt or anger. She couldn't help but wonder if things might have been different if she'd shown up when she'd found out. For the first time since finding out she was pregnant she feels a tiny seed of hope start to blossom.

"I'm not cute, especially not now."

"Sure you are. You've always been, but now you're positively adorable. Though I must say, your breasts are even more impressive than they used to be." She scowls at him and hits him, which he tries to combat by kissing her on her nose.

"Dinner's ready!" Daniel calls from the kitchen.

"Well, madam," Hawkeye says with a flourish, " it looks like our reservation is ready."

She told herself that she didn't know what she wanted yet, that she didn't know if she even wanted to be in a relationship with the man, that they of all people wouldn't, shouldn't, fall into something like this easily, but right now she can't imagine herself leaving.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? It's a well worn trope, I know. Post-war accidental pregnancy trying to work out a relationship, but I think (hope) it's turning out okay.


	2. Chapter 2

 

“So,” Daniel says teasingly as they sit down to eat, “how’d you two meet?”

“ _Dad”_ Hawkeye groans.

Margaret laughs in surprise.There are no prizes for guessing where his sense of humour came from. She gives Hawkeye a pointed smile.

“Well, I think it might have had something to do with that place the army sent me, was it Korea? It was, wasn’t it. There was some kind of hospital there…”

“Okay Mr Smartypants, how’d it go from the lovely Margaret here being Mrs Regular army and you, the camp sex pest, to this” he gestures towards them.

Margaret snorts loudly.

“I resent that!” Hawkeye says in mock outrage

“Of course you do, son. Though you did say in one of your early letters that you’d make a grab for her if you could figure out how to do that and salute at the same time.”

Margaret’s eyes go wide, “When did you say that?”

“That was that Christmas I grabbed you and kissed you in front of old Ferret Face. You seemed to enjoy me even then.”

Margaret blushes, “You…”

Daniel guffaws at watching them interact, “Nevermind, I think I can see how it happened.”

They both turn and stare at him. Both had been trying to figure out exactly that for a long time.

Hawkeye coughs loudly and changes the subject to something safe, something dull, “Enjoying your meal, Margaret?”

“Yes, thank you, it’s very nice.” Truthfully it was. It was a simple meal of meat, potatoes and green beans, but it was the heartiest thing she’d eaten in a long time. Self care hadn’t been something she’d been very good at since coming home.

Hawkeye chewed thoughtfully on a mouthful of beans, “Have you told your parents yet?”

“Of course I haven’t. Although dad will find out when he next tries to contact me through the army.”

“I’m sure he’ll be _thrilled_.”

Daniel frowns, noticing the sarcasm in his son’s tone, “Why won’t he be pleased, is it because you’re not married? Because that shouldn’t matter.”

Margaret puts her fork down. Suddenly she has less of an appetite, “No, he’ll be upset that I’m out of the army.”

“And just wait until he finds out I’m responsible for the reason you’re out of the army.”

Margaret smiles ruefully.

Daniel’s surprised, “You’ve met her father, Hawk?”

“I have indeed.”

“Didn’t go well, I take it.”

“That’s an understatement. Hawkeye was even behaving himself.”

“And did he know you two were...?”

“We’d only...we weren’t, really, not then.”

“I see. Well, you’re welcome to call this place home, and I’d be more than willing to have words with your father if you need me too.”

“Thank you.” Margaret looks down, face reddening, tears beginning to well up.

Hawkeye shares a look with his father and reaches over and picks her up her hand from her lap.

“It’s okay, my dear, I mean it. You’re far more important than any army.” Daniel says as he gets up and starts clearing the table.

Margaret wipes her eyes.“I should help.”

“No, you look exhausted. You need to come with me so I can show you where you’ll be sleeping. Do you have any bags?” Hawkeye says, still holding her hand

“They’re in my car still,” Margaret says, trying to stifle a yawn, proving his point.

“Here, give me your keys.” she hands them to him without protest, and with that he’s out the door to retrieve them.

She hadn't actually thought about where she'd sleep, all she'd been focussed on was getting here.

Daniel glances in her direction from the sink, “Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you, you’ve already been so kind.”

“Anything for a friend of Hawkeye’s, and you’re far more than that.”

“Do you think so?” she knows she is, or she hopes she is, but she’s still having trouble shaking the doubts.

Daniel comes over and sits down next to her, “Sweetheart, I’ve never seen him care more for someone, and I can’t speak for you, but I’m guessing it’s similar.”

She plucks up the courage to ask the question at the centre of it all, “You don’t think we’re too different?”

“Of course not! For starters, can you imagine two people like Hawkeye together? It’d never work. He needs someone with a personality strong and different enough to balance him out a bit.”

“Someone like me”

“Yes. Absolutely someone like you.”

Margaret’s slightly taken aback.“I, um, thank you.”

Daniel gives her hand a brief, reassuring squeeze and gets up just as Hawkeye comes back with her suitcase, slightly surprised “You didn’t bring much.”

“I don’t own much.”

“Well that’d do it. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

He puts his hand on her lower back and guides her out into the hallway and up a beautiful old staircase. “Dad’s bedroom is back downstairs, and there are three more and a bathroom up here.”

“It’s a lovely house”

“Dad grew up here, and then my parents lived here when they got married.”

Margaret experiences a pang of jealousy. She doesn’t have a hometown, a city that meant any more to her than any other. She’d been in Korea as long as any other place she’s lived.

“Here on the right we have your room, but if you get lonely, you’re welcome to join me in my room across the hall.” It’s so much like any lecherous comment he’d made in Korea, yet entirely different. There’s no suggestive smirk, and no wiggling of eyebrows, just affectionate teasing. He places her suitcase on the faded floral quilt on the bed in her room and hesitates slightly. "Can I see it, the baby?

"I don't know, can you? I can't"

"Oh very funny, you know what I mean."

She nods once, feeling self conscious, and untucks her blouse, wiggling her skirt down a little to bare her middle. She inhales sharply as he sits down on the bed and places both hands gently on either side of her belly, caressing it gently. Margaret is struck by the intense and unexpected intimacy of the moment, and when he shifts his gaze to her eyes she's frozen in the intensity of it. He pulls her down to sit next to him and angles her face to his, leaning in to kiss her tenderly on the lips and then once on the forehead for good measure.

“Margaret, this is amazing, you’re amazing. This is all amazing.”

She shyly smiles and ducks her eyes from the intensity of his gaze. This entire evening is almost too much.“You have no idea how relieved I am at how you’re handling all this, that you’re not mad, that you didn’t turn me away. You’re so relaxed about it all. Would you have taken it so well if I’d come when I found out?”

“Probably not. I might have panicked for a while, possibly said some things I’d later regret, but I would never have turned you away. Least of all because my dad would have beaten me up until I went and brought you back.” he adds, grinning.

“I like your dad, he’s very kind.”

“Well, what can I say, it’s a Pierce family trait.” At her look he quickly adds “But really, he seems to genuinely like you too, which is unusual for a girl I’ve brought home.”

“You didn’t bring me home.”

“You mean it wasn’t my wit and charm that pulled you across the border to Maine?”

She mock glares at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And that’s why you love me, right?”

Margaret’s only answer is to shrug and smile which leaves Hawkeye gawping.

"Now," she says, "where's that bathroom?…"

“Second door to the left.”

And like that, the moment is over.

 

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

After he's sure Margaret's all settled in and has everything she needs, Hawkeye heads downstairs and sits down near his father who's reading in the lounge. When Daniel sees him he puts down his book and takes off his glasses, "How're you feeling, Hawk?"

"I'm definitely feeling."

"Oh come on..."

"I'm tired, confused, pleased, scared, proud and a little giddy. I've got no idea what she wants or needs, or what we are, or what we were. Part of me wants to launch myself at her and hold on to make sure she never leaves, but she definitely wouldn't like that. Is this the part where I'm supposed to ask her to marry me? Because right now I don't think she'd like that either."

"She's a strong lady. Seems to me that she's used to having to fend for herself. I'll bet if you just give her a bit of time and don't push too hard she'll let you know what she needs. You never mentioned in your letters that you two were an item."

"We weren't, we were a very occasional and temporary item. Each time we'd swear it'd never happen again, only it did. Three times, to be exact."

"Why'd you do that? you two obviously have some strong feelings for each other."

"Promise we'd never do it again or sleep together?"

"The former, I think I've figured out the latter."

"The first time we slept together we were in enemy territory. I wrote to you about that, I just left out the part about Margaret and I bumping uglies to stop ourselves going insane with fear while the shells fell. Her marriage was going pretty badly, and she assumed that that made us an item and came on fairly strong. I panicked and pushed her away, which of course hurt her, because our Major Houlihan is nothing if not a sensitive human being wrapped in thick armor. I was worried that it would never work because we were too different, and I told her that. We'd been fighting since we met, and in one fell swoop we'd gone from that to sleeping together, which was made even worse by me discovered that, despite it all, I had feelings for her. The second time was at that party where they dyed everything red to celebrate my return because I'd run off and gone to yell at the brass at the peace talks and gotten away with it. She'd just decided that she was going to file for divorce and things were heady and drunk, and the making out behind the mess tent went a little bit further than we intended. We agreed again that it was probably best if we just continued our separate ways and life rolled on as normal. The third time was just another unremarkable day in Korea about six weeks before the war ended. We were cold, tired, and again a bit drunk, and for a short time we were just what the other needed to forget about the war. One armistice agreement and a long kiss goodbye later and here we are."

"Y'know, while you were out getting her luggage she asked me if I thought you two were too different. Now I know why."

A pained look crosses Hawkeye's face. "And What did you tell her?"

Daniel briefly considers joking with him before telling him the truth, but the look that's still on his son's face tells him that now is not the time. "That yes, you're both different, but that you're complementary and strong enough to hold your own against each other."

"Huh, I never thought about it like that. God, though, we can fight."

"I don't doubt it."

"Ha, you could give Sidney Freedman run for his money, you know that?"  _God, Sidney would have a field day with this._ Hawkeye pauses, thoughtful for a moment. "I'm gonna be a dad." A slow smile builds and takes over his entire face.

"I'll admit I'm pretty excited, too. I spent most of your teenage years scared you'd accidentally knock up some poor girl, and I'd just gotten over that and started resigning myself that you might never settle down, and that I might never have grandchildren, and then you go and accidentally impregnate someone at the ripe old age of 34."

Hawkeye grins and shakes his head, "I'm not sure why, but part of me feels like it's some kind of achievement."

"I felt like that when I found out your mother was pregnant with you." Daniel pauses before saying, "That Margaret's a fine woman, I hope her and her father work something out."

"She really is, and I dunno about old "Howitzer" Al. She'll sort something out with him, but whether they'll be on speaking terms at the end of it I don't know. I had a peek at her file once when Henry wasn't looking, she's got a mother and sister somewhere, too, but she's never mentioned them to me."

"Poor thing. Oh well, she's got us if she wants us. Now, I'd better head up to bed, it's getting late. Rest well son." Daniel says, clapping Hawkeye on the shoulder as he walks past.

It's sometime in the wee hours when Margaret wakes. She's not sure when was the last time she had a full night's sleep, but that it's been long enough for her to add it to the list of things she's not sure of. She groans; there's no use trying to roll over and go back to sleep. If she's not desperately thirsty then she's usually in desperate need of a bathroom visit, and in the case of right now, it's both. She cracks an eye open and takes in her surrounding, remembering all too well that she's in Maine, sleeping in the Pierce house. She takes care of the trip to the bathroom before heading downstairs in search of a drink of water, leaning back as she descends the stairs, compensating for a recent shift in her centre of balance. She winces as her feet find a particularly loud creaky board, but it doesn't seem to disturb the house's other two occupants. When she reaches the kitchen, she flicks the light on looks around. She spies a washed glass drying next to the sink. Good, that'll save her rummaging through the cupboards. She fills it and takes a gulp, stopping to stare out the window in front of her. With little light pollution, the stars are bright, much like they had been at the 4077. All of that felt like a lifetime ago, not mere months. She drains the rest of her water and slams the glass down on the bench, wincing as she remembers she's not alone. She goes to leave the room, but something catches her eye as she heads goes to turn off the light. There's a note propped up on the side table; on closer inspection, it's leaning against a plate of what look like blueberry muffins. It reads: _Margaret, I've left these here just in case you get hungry overnight. It used to happen to my wife all the time. I hope you manage to get some rest, Daniel._

Margaret's eyes instantly start to mist over and there's a gentle thud as she slowly sinks down to sit in the middle of the floor. She doesn't know how to feel. She's touched at Daniel's kind, sweet gesture. What she's done to deserve such kindness she doesn't know. She's never met a more sweet and thoughtful man, and she's angry, so angry that she even _needs,_ special treatment. Her body is a walking mutiny and she feels herself railing against it. It's not enough for it to feel foreign, but it needs more of everything too. Her tears roll down her face hotly and she swats them away angrily. She also absolutely _loathes_ needing more of anyone, for as much as she craves someone to love and care for her, independence was prized in her family. Showing Vulnerability is a weakness. Her tears subside as quickly as they came and she hauls herself up off the floor. As she does she feels fluttering within her belly. _Yes, I know you're there, I can hardly forget, can I._ She can't imagine what the baby is going to look like or be like. She supposes blue eyes and dark hair are practically a given, given the eye and natural hair colours of its parents, but that's as far as she ever gets. _Right, bed._ If she doesn't at least try and sleep, she never will. She hesitates at the top of the stairs. She could simply slip back into her cold bed, or she could very easily slip into Hawkeye's warm one. She takes a deep breath and heads for the door on the left, resolving to leave again if he doesn't wake up. She gently opens the door, tensing in anticipation of squeaks and creaks that never come. She shakes her head _he never even closed the curtains_ , and starlight gently illuminates his room. A rush of affection washes over her as she sees him sprawled across his bed, black hair sticking in all directions. Sleep having seemingly removed the weight of the world from his shoulders, he reminds her of an overgrown little boy.

"Margaret, are you okay?" his sleep worn voice startles her, it's laden with concern.

Caught, she simply nods as he squints at her.

Hawkeye pulls back a corner of his blankets and pats the space next to him, "Come here."

She obliges quickly, settling herself down as he covers them up and puts his arms around her. He tucks her head under his chin and starts rubbing soothing circles on her back and she feels some of her tension starting to leave her, and tiredness starts to take over. This feels warm, right, safe, good, but she doesn't trust it yet. Experience has taught her to be suspicious of happiness. It can't be this easy, can it? Soon her thoughts are quieted, because both of them are asleep once more.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Hawkeye is woken by the light streaming in his window. _Damn, should've closed the curtains._ He's been bad at remembering since returning home, but then in the swamp they’d often slept with the whole sides of the tent rolled up, and what passed as windows weren’t worth paying attention to. He looks down at the sleeping blonde in his arms and allows himself the indulgence of inhaling against her hair and enjoying the feel of her against him.

He knows the exact moment Margaret wakes up. She tenses, freezing for a second, before relaxing against him again.

“Morning,” Hawkeye murmurs into her ear.

“Morning” she responds as she lifts her head to look at him with squinting, bleary eyes.

They share a soft smile before she stiffens again, hurriedly disentangling herself and getting out of bed “Bathroom”, she says by way of explanation.

“That’s your new favourite excuse.”

“Well you try having this parked on your bladder”, she gestures downwards.”

“I should have a bathroom built in here”

She shoots him a filthy look as she makes her exit, but he knows he’s not really in trouble.

A short time later she’s standing uncertainly in his doorway again. He’s not sure where the boundaries are, so he decides to push gently and see what happens, “Five more minutes?” He puts on his most charming smile and lifts the blankets to her once again. To his surprise, she agrees. They’re just settling into their previous configuration when Daniel’s voice floats up the stairs, “Hawk, are you up?”

“Dad, d’you mind? I'm trying to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman.” Hawkeye says, but only loud enough for Margaret to hear. “I'd better go see what he wants, but before I do,” he leans over and kisses her soundly. Caught off guard, it takes Margaret a moment to respond, but by the time Hawkeye pulls away she’s breathless. She pulls him in for another quick kiss before he can leave.

“Well that still works” he grins at her

“I don’t think it ever didn’t.”

“Touché”

“Hawk!” Daniel calls up the stairs again.

“Coming!” He calls as gets out of bed and grabs his robe.

Margaret groans and buries her head under a pillow, regretting it instantly as her face makes contact with one of Hawkeye’s nudist magazines.

 

 

When Margaret heads downstairs she finds Daniel busy in the kitchen and Hawkeye leaning against the counter talking about whatever.

“Morning, dear, sorry if I woke you earlier”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, I was already awake.

Daniel looks between her and Hawkeye, eyes dancing, as if looking for signs that they’d been up to anything. “I was just telling Hawkeye that I don’t need him in the clinic today and that it might be nice if he took you for a walk in the sunshine, only if you’re up for it of course. I’ve packed some lunch things in here just in case.” He places a neatly packed picnic basket onto the kitchen table.  
Margaret grins. The dear old man is trying to set them up.

“Hey dad, is this a new definition of space?”

“Oh be quiet, Hawk.”

Margaret turns to Hawkeye, “What’s this about space?”

“He told me last night I should give you some space.”

“Which is why you kissed me this morning.”

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

“You’re lucky, mister.”

“Ahem,” Daniel coughs, amused, “Breakfast is ready. I’m due in town, so I’ll see you two this evening.”

“Aren’t you going to have some?”

“I’ve had mine already.” Daniel smiles widely, “Try not to have too much fun, you two”

They heard his footfalls echo up the hallway and the front door shut with a bang. They take their food and sit down.

Hawkeye waggles his eyebrows, “So, whaddya wanna do now that we’re alone.”

Margaret narrows her eyes and gives him a crooked smile, “Eat breakfast”

“And then what?”

“Shower and get dressed, and then go for a walk,” she’s grinning at him now.

“Can’t we have a little fun first?”

“There are things I think we should straighten out _before_ we have “fun”.”

“Aw _mom.”_

She makes a disapproving noise, “That is _not_ how you increase your chances.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?”

“Better, but I still want breakfast and a shower.” At his look, she adds, “ _Alone.”_

“Oh you want breakfast alone, if I’d have known that I’d have mmmph.” Margaret clamps her hand over his mouth and rolls her eyes, “Oh for the love of...the next thing you say had better be serious”

“Fine, fine...this is really good bacon… and you look especially adorable this morning.”

“You're the worst.”

“At Your service.” his grin at this makes her fist twitch.

“And you _always_ have to have the last word.”

“No I don’t.”

Margaret chooses to let her face convey her exasperation as Hawkeye pasted a smug grin on his. _Idiot._

“Okay okay, I’m sorry.” He finds her hand on the table and rubs his thumb soothingly over her knuckles. He knows it’s not a good idea to wind her up too much if they’re going to spend the day together.

 

The rest of their breakfast is accompanied by Hawkeye reading out parts of the morning paper. Margaret smiles at some and makes disbelieving noises at others, but both can feel the nervous energy rising. There's an expectation that they will discuss things on this walk and neither are looking forward to it. They eye each other with slight trepidation. “It can’t be that bad, can it? Maybe we’ll even feel better after we talk about things.”

“I hope so.” Margaret says quietly.

Talking about the big things in their relationship has never been their strong suit.

Margaret excuses herself and heads upstairs to try and find clothes suitable for a Maine Fall. It wasn’t freezing yet, but the air was definitely cool. Her choices were limited. She hadn’t owned that many clothes before getting pregnant and hadn’t bothered with buying any more except for an oversized coat that she’d been using to hide her changing shape. She grabs it and the clothes she’d worn the day before and heads for the shower, trying to quiet the whorl of thoughts gathering inside her head. The voices of her insecurities whisper their way through it nastily, like a frigid wind. What if he expects her to stay home from with their child from now on? What if he can’t stay faithful to just one woman? What if he _says_ he can but he can’t? That last thought causes bile to rise in her throat. She’s going to have to trust him. She steps into the warm spray and gulps hard, trying to tamp down on her wayward thoughts. It was going to be okay. Things had gone well so far, right? But part of her is still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The air is cool and clear when they head outside. The green grass rolls off into the distance, stopping only for the trees, which are postcard worthy in shades of yellow, orange and red.

Margaret stops for a moment and turns taking in the view. In the other direction the water glistens in the cove. “I can see why you missed this place, it’s breathtaking”

“It’s kind of the anti-Korea; no stinking hot summers, no living in a dust-bowl, and, best of all, no war.”

“That’s certainly a plus.”

“Would you prefer a beachy kind of picnic or a leafy one?”  
“Leafy sounds lovely.” Her eyes still fixed on the autumnal rainbow.

“Leafy it is. This way, milady.” Hawkeye holds out his arm and she links hers with his. Of all the strange and unlikely situations they’d found themselves in over the years, this one might just be the strangest. They walk on in silence for a bit before Hawkeye can’t stand it anymore. “So”

“So...”

“We may as well get the hard part of the talking out of the way first, the suspense is killing me.”

There’s a very pregnant pause in which Margaret’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but no sound comes out.

“So” Hawkeye says again.

“We’ve already covered that part.”

“So we have.” It looked like he was going to have to be the one to start things. “What do you want to do, y’know, with us, the baby, everything?”

A look of terror crosses Margaret’s face. What she binds her emotions in with is tighter than Frank Burns’ purse strings, but she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, starts speaking. “I don’t know. I’m just. Scared. Scared that this will mean my nursing career is over, that I’ll be stuck at home for the rest of my life. Scared that you won’t want to settle for just one woman, or worse, that you do and then find it’s not enough!”

“I don’t know if it’ll make you feel any better, but I haven’t been with a woman since I returned stateside. Not for lack of trying mind you, but when I did try I found that my heart wasn’t in it. It all feels so superficial now, so trite, so meaningless. They don't understand the horrors we’ve seen, the things we’ve had to live through. They still think the world is nice and safe and that the local store running out of milk is classified as a bad situation. They don’t know the fragments of darkness that we’ll always carry with us. I don’t know about you, but the darkness has lifted a little since coming home, I’ve started to make peace with it, but I don’t think it will ever really go away. Plus, seeing those women made me realise something, something important. My tastes have changed. I no longer want a sweet, benign, obedient wife. You could say that in Korea I developed a taste for something stronger...”

“Oh? And what does that mean?”

“I think you know what that means. It means, Margaret Houlihan, that despite what I’ve been foolishly trying to tell myself, I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with anyone that’s not you.”

“Oh...” Margaret looks down, cheeks aflame, trying to shield herself from the intensity of the situation. She looks up again tentatively, “You know, I think I might have developed a taste for delinquent, hot shot, wise-ass surgeons.”

“Just generally, or one in particular?”

“I think you know, too.”

“Oh really? Well I might be able to help you there.” He stops walking and puts down the basket he’s been carrying and proceeds to sweep Margaret into his arms and dipping her into a kiss. She’s used to these tactics from him and sees it coming. She meets him with fire and passion, tongues dueling, teeth nipping. When they pull apart their chests are heaving, but Hawkeye hasn’t finished talking “As for that other thing you mentioned, staying home, I think it would be cruel to keep a talented nurse like you all to myself; not just to you, but think of all the patients! We’ll work something out. I mean, I could even take the first three months off, I could look after the kid, or we could get to know our tiny human together. We make a pretty good team. We’re medical professionals, what could go wrong?

“We were medical professionals when we got into this mess.”

“Mess? It’s not a mess! Okay, it is kind of a mess, but we’re working on it. Hey, we could forget the picnic and have each other for lunch...”

“No! But we should definitely try it again, just to make sure.”

Within seconds they’re attacking each other’s mouths, they kiss again for what feels like hours. They’re interrupted by a loud growl from Margaret’s stomach and reluctantly break apart.

“We should get going, I can’t let you starve, dad would never forgive me.”

Margaret smiles crookedly at him. Hawkeye picks up the basket, link arms with her, and they set off again.

“Y’know dad was thinking of retiring soon. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping to look after his grandkid either.”

“You’re dad’s a wonderful man.” There’s silence for a moment, “I wish my father was more like him.”

It takes a moment for Hawkeye to respond, “What are you going to do about your dad?”

“Nothing. At least not for now. All he’s going to do is tell me that I’m a disappointment, berate me for even going near you and then give me a lecture on what I should do next. I don’t think I could take it right now. Besides, it’s taken me this long, but he can his take his opinions and blow them out his ear.”

“Good for you, Margaret.”

“Do you have any family other than your dad?”

“My mother’s out there somewhere, but she's an alcoholic kleptomaniac, and a sister, but we’re not close. Plus she'd just tell dad.”

They walk along for a few minutes in silence.

“Can you imagine us taking care of a baby?”

“Well, sure, we looked after that baby girl in Korea, you even had her in your tent.”

“But there were other people to help, it’s not the same. I’m so scared we’ll screw this up, and there are no second chances, certainly no room for failure.”

“It’s a baby, not an inspection.”

“No, it’s worse! There are no manuals, no study material; I could study until it’s born and not even know what it’s like to actually look after it! The fact that it’s ours makes it even more terrifying!”

“So we work it out together, it’ll be fine. Plus dad can help us. He raised me and I turned out okay.”

Margaret snorts in amusement, “That’s debatable.” She wants to ask him if he thinks their baby will trigger his memories of the bus, but she doesn’t want to open that can of worms. “Let’s stop here.”

“Why, you too hungry to carry on?”

“No, it’s just beautiful here.” They’re in a clearing on a hill, overlooking the water.

Hawkeye spreads out a rug and puts down the basket.

“Do you need help sitting down?”

“I’m pregnant, not handicapped.”

“My mistake.”

She turns to glare at him.

“You're angry when you're beautiful.” Margaret had never been sure whether that meant she was beautiful when she was angry or if it was purely meant to wind her up.

Hawkeye starts unpacking the basket, “Sandwich? We have chicken salad or chicken salad.” She puts a hand out and Hawkeye hands her one. “Thank you.”

He then pulls out a bottle of lemonade, some glasses, and a whole chocolate cake.

“I got a letter from Trapper the other day.”

“What did it say?”

“It just said hi and had his address and phone number in it. I was planning on giving him a call, but something came up.”

Margaret groans, “Oh god, he's going to just _love_ this.”

Hawkeye bursts into loud, uncontrollable laughter and Margaret finds herself joining him despite herself.

Hawkeye wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes, “It's almost worth telling him in person just to see the look on his face.”

Margaret struggles to regain her composure, “We are _not_ travelling all the way to Boston.”

“Maybe I should invite him here.”

“God no. He’ll never let us live this down.”

“Fine, I’ll just give him a call. Anyone else from the 4077 you don’t want to tell about this.”

“Apart from all of them?”

“Why, embarrassed to be seen with me?” Hawkeye waggles his eyebrows.

“No, it’s just embarrassing for everyone to know that I got pregnant accidentally.”

“They don’t know that.”

“Anyone who can do math knows it.”

“They’ll love it. Imagine Potter’s face! And Beej, he won’t believe it. Imagine Radar. He might just faint, he was always so scared of you. With good reason, I might add.”

Margaret laughs before taking a bite of her sandwich. It was too early to tell, but for the first time her glimmer of hope outshone her feeling of dread.

Hawkeye stops happily munching, “Let’s get Married.”

Caught off guard Margaret almost spits out the food she has in her mouth. “What? No!”

He’d been expecting that answer and pushes his luck further “How about next year?”

She smiles impishly, “Maybe.”

They smile widely at each other.

Things aren’t perfect, not by a long shot. But for now, lazing in the pale, golden sunlight, they’re okay.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews, beautiful people. I love getting feedback, and it’s always nice to know people are enjoying my work. This is the last chapter of the story, but don’t worry, it’s not over. I’m planning a large-ish (possibly two part, haven’t decided yet.) epilogue that’ll span larger time periods


	6. Epilogue Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Here we have the first part of the “epilogue”, and it’s turning out to be gargantuan. Each is made up of snapshots of what happens in roughly the next year of their life.

It's not long before Margaret has to make a trip into town to go clothes shopping. The last few things that had fitted when she'd arrived are too small, and she and Hawkeye walk to the small town centre together. Margaret’s keenly aware of the curious whispers and glances that follow them, but Hawkeye seems oblivious. They stop outside the His and Daniel’s General Practice, and Margaret kisses him goodbye. “See you this evening.”

“Good luck with the shopping,”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.” She mutters. She’s not looking forward to this. She finds a shop that has women’s clothes in the window and pushes the door open.  A little bell jingles and the two older women behind the counter look up. One smiles and says hello, the other one just stares at her with the beady eyes of a busybody. Margaret moves over to where the wintery clothes are and starts leafing through them. How she’s meant to find winter clothes she’ll never know, and she’ll be damned if she’s going to ask for help. She spies some of those loose-fitting tunics that people seem to wear these days, and is about to go and check them out when the beady eyed lady starts talking to the kind one “Do you know about that lady that just came in here, the blonde one by the winter apparel? Apparently she just turned up on the Pierce’s doorstep the other night. Phyllis saw it. People have seen her and, what’s his name, Daniel’s son, Benjamin, going around together all close and touching each other. She’s pregnant and they’re not even wearing rings! How Daniel let’s him get away with behaving like that I don’t know. I’ll bet it wouldn’t be happening if his mother were alive!” Margaret freezes _Why you rude old cow!_ She then makes her way over to the tunics and slowly and deliberately picks out a couple, and then peruses for anything else she might need. Then, arms laden and eyes icy, she makes her way over to the counter to pay. She addresses the kind lady first, “I’d like to buy these, please.”

“Certainly.”

She then turns to the gossip, eyes blazing, Major face on, and draws herself up to her full height. “I am former US Army Major Margaret Houlihan, I’ve just come back from Korea, and I do _not_ take lip from people like you. How _dare_ you speak about me like that, especially since I’m in your store! You’re lucky there isn’t anywhere else around here! Now don’t let me hear you talking about me, or the Pierces for that matter, again, or you’ll be sorry!”

Busybody stands gaping like a fish.

“That’ll be $30, dear.” The kind woman chimes in. Margaret hands over the money.

“Thank you. Here are your things, have a nice day.”

“Thank you” Margaret says, possibly a little too coldly, and makes her way out of the shop as fast as possible.

“What a horrible woman!” Busybody exclaims, now that it’s safe to do so.

“Oh nonsense, I quite like her. She’s obviously more than a match for you!”

This leaves Busybody practicing her fish face again.

 

*

 

Hawkeye goes over to the side table where their big, black telephone sits, opens the drawer and rummages around for a few moments, before pulling out the letter from Trapper. “Aha!” He exclaims, pleased with himself. He sits down in the chair next to the phone and gleefully starts dialing the number written on the paper and grins as it starts ringing.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice says. He presumes it’s Trapper’s wife.

“Ah hello, I’d like to speak to Dr John Francis Xavier McIntyre, please!” he says in his most pompous voice.

“Um, okay, just a moment, please.” the woman sounds understandably bemused.

“Hello?” The confused voice of Trapper comes over the line.

“Trapper, it’s me, Hawkeye!”

“Hawkeye, how’ve you been, it’s been too long!”

“It has indeed old friend, did you miss me?”

“Of course I did! How’s it being home?”

“It’s a little different. No cockroaches, flushing toilets, no mess tent, and no n... actually no, that’s not true. I was about to say no nurses, but it just so happens that brought one of them home with me.”

“Hold on a second, you brought home a nurse? Which one!”

“Oh I didn’t just bring home a nurse, I brought home _the_ nurse.” He was choosing to ignore the fact that he hadn’t brought her home for now, and had failed to notice that she was standing on the other side of the room, lips pursed and arms crossed.

“What’s that supposed to mean? There was no _the_ nurse other than Hot-Lips, and there’s no way you’re talking about her?”

“Oh aren’t I?”

“You’re just having me on, you did not bring Hot-Lips home with you!”

“Oh didn’t I? Plus that’s not all, she and I are going to have a baby.”

“Ha, now I _know_ you’re lying.”

There’s silence for a moment, the smug is palpable.

“Hawk? Holy shit, you fink! I want all the details, all of them.”

“I can’t give you _those_ kind of details, she’ll kill me. _Ow!”_

Margaret had decided now would be a good time to make her presence known.

“What was that?” Trapper asks, confused.

“She hit me! Uh oh, she’s remembered dad has a phone in the study, watch out!”

Trapper laughs, “So much for that “thing” she had for me, though come to think of it, she always did seem to respond to your surprise kisses better.”

“Pierce, McIntyre!”

“Hiya, Hot-Lips!”

Margaret rolls her eyes at the use of her old nickname.

“Hi, honey.” Hawkeye smarms. It’s starting to feel a lot like the old days.

“Well jeez, now I know you’re at least not lying about her being there. How’ve you been Margaret?”

“Oh y’know, just trying to adjust to life in Maine, and pregnant…”

Trapper whistles, “I did really miss some war! Does Frank know?”

“No!” The other two yell.

“God, imagine his face. He’d probably have a psychotic break.”

“He already had one psychotic break, that was when Margaret got married.”

“Who’d she marry, you, Hawk?”

“Nah, some Lieutenant Colonel with a forehead bigger than a neanderthal’s”

“ _She’s_ right here, you know, and she can hear you. Donald was _not_ a neanderthal”

“Okay, fine, but he was a fairly spineless sonofabitch.”

“Quiet, you.” Margaret snaps.

Trapper snorts, “It must be a riot living with you two”

 _“Daddy, daddy!”_ can be heard in the background. “Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you guys later!” and he means it, because he wasn't kidding, he really does want to know all the details.

 

 

*

 

Daniel’s in the living room reading the paper when he hears his son come home. He briefly considers warning him about the storm that’s been brewing in the kitchen all afternoon but thinks better of it. Margaret had been in the kitchen all afternoon wrestling with making dinner. She’d said she’d wanted to do it but it wasn’t going her way. Daniel had tried to help but she’d run him off, determined to do it by herself. _Oh well, she’s his wife, no, girlfriend. Partner?_ The first is incorrect yet it’s the other two that seem wrong. He figures Hawkeye is used to a fired up Margaret, and if he’s not, he’ll need to learn.

“What time do you call this, you said you’d be home an hour ago!”

“Margaret, I got held up, there was an emergency!”

“You didn’t call, though, did you. I’ve been slaving in here all afternoon trying to cook this _stupid_ bird, and none of the vegetables have come out right, and then I have it ready for when you say you’ll be here and now it’s _ruined!”_ Her voice is rising in pitch with every word. Hawkeye he raises his voice to match.

“But Margaret, I didn’t have time to call you, the kid had broken his arm...!”

“You don’t care, do you, you don’t care how hard I worked, how clumsy _this_ has made me…” she gestures angrily to her ever expanding belly.

Hawkeye stays silent and lets her angry ranting wash over him. He’s learned over the years that it’s useless to try and talk unless there’s a break in the yelling. He figures she’ll either storm out or burst into tears any second now, and he’s banking on the latter.

Margaret stops yelling, throws her apron at him and storms upstairs.

 _Well that went well._ Hawkeye walks into the living room and sits down near Daniel with a loud sigh. “Has she been like that the whole day?”

“She’s been in there working herself up all afternoon. I offered to help but she didn’t want to.”

“Hurricane Margaret strikes again.”

“She really is a force of nature, that one. Are you going to try and talk to her?” Daniel’s genuinely curious. He’s heard many tales of the famed temper of Major Houlihan, but this is the first time he’s witnessed her in action.

“Think I’ll give her a few minutes, she’s less likely to throw something at me.”

Daniel smiles to himself and shakes his head as he goes back to reading his paper.

A few minutes later Margaret appears in the doorway looking sheepish, “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” she says, casting her eyes down. Hawkeye motions for her to come and sit next to him, and when she does he pulls her to his side and she rests her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry too.”

“I just get so frustrated! I’m home all day, I just want to _do_ something. I surely should be able to manage a simple thing like dinner by myself.”

“It smells amazing, how about I taste it and confirm how amazing it is and then you don’t have to worry anymore.” They get up and move to the kitchen and, unable to stop himself from teasing, Daniel yells after them, “So how long have you two been married?”

“Shut up, dad!” Hawkeye yells back, and equilibrium is restored

 

 

*

 

They’d sort of been thrown into this relationship together. Sure, it was conscious and consensual, but both of them seemed to need to pretend like it was no big deal, precisely because it was a big deal. Two commitment-phobes in a serious relationship together. Margaret had been in Maine for almost two months now and they still hadn’t said those three little words, even though it was clear to anyone with eyes that they had these feelings. Hawkeye, though, seemed to be feeling far more relaxed about things that she was, but then he wasn’t the one who’d gotten married and divorced while they were over there. Nothing good had ever come of the words “I love you”. Having been all passion and heart with a pretty face as a teenager, she’d scared boys off as fast as she’d attracted them, all with those three words.

In army she’d thought that it might be different, _men_ were more mature than _boys_ , but she had learned very quickly that nothing made the affections of superior officer’s cool faster than those three words. Men were but large boys, it seemed. To them she was nothing more than a pretty young plaything that they were happy to trade favours with. That was fine with her. She changed her expectations, put her heart away securely and just had fun with it.

Then there’d been Frank. She’d thought, _hoped,_ that he might be different. “I love you’s” had been easy with Frank. He’d been in the right place at the right time and said all of the right words. He hadn’t told her he was married, he’d promised to leave his wife. But of course, he didn’t.  He was just a plain old disappointment. Those words had been wasted on Frank.

The worst, though, was Donald. He’d broken her heart, and with it her faith in these kinds of things. He’d offered her a ring, and she’d naively thought it’d meant something. The higher the military rank, she’d been taught, the better the man. She’d put everything she’d had into that marriage, but Donald hadn’t been worth his weight in brass. There probably wasn’t a time in their marriage when Donald hadn’t been sleeping with somebody else. Margaret had just been someone that looked good, someone “sturdy”. She’d given her heart but he’d never loved her. She hadn’t said those words since Donald.

Now, though, there was Hawkeye. Going by her old standards he was the most “wrong” person for her that there was. She didn’t know how or when he’d gone from being the bane of her existence to quietly and unintentionally working his way into her heart, but he had. She’d apparently done the same thing to him. Now she was faced with what she’d always wanted: Someone that loved her, the beginnings of a family. She was pregnant with this man’s child, but now her mouth wouldn’t form those words. She had a feeling that he’d been ready for a while, that he’d been holding off saying them, maybe so he didn’t scare her away. It had to be her move. She had, after all, told him that she wasn’t going to marry him until she was sure they had a chance, that a baby wasn’t a good enough reason for a marriage. The ball was in her court. She wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ rush into a marriage again. She’s not sure she could bear another divorce. Now, though, she senses it’s time. She’s still having trouble with it, but she’s starting to feel keenly the _lack_ of those words. She finds Hawkeye sitting in the lounge, reading a medical journal. “Hawkeye?”

“Yes, Mags?” He looks up at her teasingly.

“Oh will you quit calling me that…” She can’t pike out now, and the words come out of her mouth so fast that they run together, “IthinkImightloveyou.”

I think I might love you.” She’s added a few extra words, but he understands the significance. His eyes snap to meet hers. He rises, dropping the journal unceremoniously onto the couch as he does, and closes the space between them quickly. Upon reaching her he folds her into his arms and murmurs, grinning, “Y’know, Margaret, I think I might love you too.”

 

 

 


	7. Epilogue Part 2.

It’s sometime in January when a letter arrives addressed to Margaret, the postmark from Hannibal, Missouri.

“Mail for you, Margaret!” Daniel calls out as he sifts through the day’s letters.

He laughs at the perplexed look on her face when she arrives to take a look; she didn’t think anyone knew she was here!

She notes where the postmark is from and, when she opens the letter, her suspicions are confirmed.

 

_Dear Margaret,_

_I tried to contact you through the army, but they told me that you'd been discharged. When they told me the reason why I darn near fell over! Forgive my presumptiveness at sending this letter here, but when they told me that you arrived stateside already expecting, there was only one culprit I could think of. The fact that your last posting had been in Vermont only confirmed my suspicions. Congratulations, you two. Tell Hawkeye if he doesn't look after you he'll have me to answer to, but something tells me he's doing a fine job. In Korea I did always wonder if there was a little bit of something between you two, I guess now I have my answer._

_Take care, Margaret, and don't forget to send me photos when the baby gets arrives._

 

_My love to both of you,_

 

_Sherm_

 

Margaret wipes tears from her eyes that she hadn’t even noticed fall, “That man always was too clever for his own good.” She hands the letter to Daniel, who reads it through before clapping a comforting hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“Sounds like a good man, your CO.”

“He is, he really is.”

 

That evening when Hawkeye arrives home, he decides it’s about time he wrote to BJ.

 

_Dear Beej,_

 

_How’ve you been? I’m betting it’s great being back with Erin and Peg. Things have changed a lot over here in Crabapple Cove. A few months after we got back, Margaret showed up on my doorstep. She’d been discharged from the army because she was pregnant. She is pregnant. Apparently she and I managed to create a life together before we left Korea. It’s amazing, Beej. Somehow surrounded by all that war, all that death, all that suffering, we made life. Of course we didn’t mean to. It was a big surprise. Margaret had a bit of a hard time of it. She didn’t tell me until she was already 20 weeks. We’re doing okay, though. We fight, we argue, we make up. She doesn’t want to get married, though, not until after the baby arrives. She said that making a woman walk down the aisle while visibly pregnant was just another form of public humiliation thought up by men, but that wasn’t her only reason._

_I’m excited like you wouldn’t believe. Logically you’d think I’d be scared, but mostly it just feels right. Hawkeye Pierce and Hotlips Houlihan, the unlikeliest pair in all of Korea._

_She’s due in early March, so not too long to go now. I’ll keep you posted._

 

_Your good friend,_

 

_Hawkeye_

 

 

 

 

_Dear Hawkeye,_

_I’ve re-read your letter three times now and still can’t quite believe it - congratulations! There were moments after that time you two got lost together where I’d wonder if there was still unfinished business between you (the red party immediately springs to mind!). If you’re anything like me you’ll be smitten the moment you lay eyes on the kid. How’s Margaret doing? Peg hated the third trimester, said she felt huge. Personally I thought she’d never looked more beautiful. Being home is wonderful. I will never, ever tire of waking up next to my wife, and finally being around for all Erin’s little moments is even better than I’d imagined. Erin was a little shy around me at first, but she got used to me pretty quickly. She’s a great kid, Peg’s done an amazing job with her. When I’m home she follows me around like a tiny shadow._

_I’ve gotta go, Erin says she wants some apple juice._

_Give my love to Margaret,_

 

_BJ_

 

 

*

 

 

It’s the second week of March and Margaret is restless. So restless that Hawkeye, who’s been spending increasing amounts of time at home lately, told her to up and taken them out for a walk in the cool, early spring air. There’s snow still piled on the sides of the roads, but mostly the ground is just covered in puddles.

Margaret had been complaining about pains on and off for the last month, so neither she nor Hawkeye thought much of it when this round of twinges had begun the day before

“Are you sure you’re okay, Margaret?”

“I don’t know, the pain seems to be getting worse.”

“Uh huh, and coming and going. Looks like you might actually be in labor this time.”

“It’s about time, ugh! She grunts as she’s hit with another wave of pain.

“This is all your fault, you put this thing in here!”

“We’re starting a little early on the abuse, aren’t we, Margaret? Things are only just getting started.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too. Come on, we should get you in the car and head for a hospital, the nearest one’s a couple of hours away.”

She looks at him with fear in her eyes. “We have to drive, _now?_ I should have stayed in Vermont! _”_

“It’ll be fine, you’re not in advanced labor, it’s your first baby. It’ll go on for a while yet.”

“I know that! You know they’ll just make you wait in the waiting room...”

“Then I’ll tell them I’m your personal physician. I’m not gonna pace around in a room full of other anxious men!”

“Don’t let them put me under.”

“I won’t”

“I’ll make it harder for the baby to breathe!”

“Margaret, I won’t, I’ll be there the whole time!”

She starts to panic, “Can’t we just stay home, can’t you look after me here?”

“Nuh uh, I don’t want you giving birth anywhere that doesn’t have operating facilities or blood, just in case anything goes wrong.”

“Okay, fine, but hurry up, I am _not_ giving birth in your car.”

“Well we could take your car?”

“PIERCE, I AM NOT GIVING BIRTH IN ANY CAR!, she screeches, reverting back to his last name.

“Alright alright, come on, sweet cheeks.”

They make their way back to the house as quickly as they can, stopping only to grab a bag of things for Margaret, scrawl a note for Daniel and jump in the car.

 

 

By the time they reach the hospital her contractions are only a few minutes apart. Hawkeye screeches up outside the Hospital’s front doors and runs over to them. He sticks his head inside and yells “I need a wheelchair, I’ve got a woman here about to give birth!”

An orderly comes rushing out to oblige.

“Sir, I’ll need you to move your car.” a man says.

“You move it,” Hawkeye says, and throws the keys at him as he runs after Margaret.

 

“Excuse me, sir, you can’t go into the delivery room, you’ll have to wait over there in the waiting room with the other expectant fathers”

“I'm her doctor.”

“I thought you were the father”

“I am the father.”

“Sir, you need to go in there and sit…”

 _“Hawkeye!”_ He hears Margaret scream up the corridor.

“Gotta run, I'm being paged…”

“Sir!” But the nurse soon gives up, shaking her head, and walking away as Hawkeye runs in the opposite direction, following the sound of the yelling.

 

“Who are you?” demands the nurse in Margaret’s room as Hawkeye bursts in.

“I’m the father...”

“Sir, you need to wait out...”

“...and her attending physician.” He rattles off his full name and registration number, and the nurse narrows her eyes and regards him with suspicion, but says nothing more. He goes over and grabs Margaret’s hand.

She wails as another pain builds and subsides. This is worse than that time her appendix needed to be taken out, worse than anything else she can remember, and it just keeps coming. She tries to focus on the feeling of Hawkeye’s hand squeezing hers, of anything else, but as she feels another contraction coming she knows that it’s no use. “I can’t do this!”

“Of course you can, you’re the strongest person I know. Y’know I always suspected that if we’d taken you up in a plane and dropped you out of it, not only would there have been no more war, but no more Korea, and you would have walked away without a scratch!”

She grins despite herself.

“Would you like something for the pain?” the nurse asks from her corner of the room.

“No, you’re not giving me a general, you’re not putting me under!”

“Funny, that’s the first time you’ve ever said no to a general…”, Hawkeye quips, unable to resist.

“Will you stop it with your stupid jokes!”

 

This goes on for another half an hour. The nurse watching them is fascinated. Amidst the pain and screaming the pair lurch back and forth between death threats, jokes, bickering and physical comfort. She’s always firmly believed that a man’s place is outside the delivery room, but these two are almost enough to change her mind. Somewhere in the middle of a rant about Hawkeye and lopping off appendages there’s an almighty yell, and a baby is born.

“You did it, Margaret! She’s beautiful, she’s so beautiful.” Margaret is sobbing. Hawkeye has tears streaming down his face, but doesn’t remember starting to cry. There’s a flurry of activity as the cord is cut, and the nurse wraps the crying baby in a towel and goes to take her away.

“No, don’t take her, Margaret hasn’t even seen her yet!” The Nurse hesitates and then hands her over. This is not hospital procedure. She’s meant to weigh and bathe her and put her in the nursery, not hand her to her father.

The new parents stare down at the squalling bundle.

“Well she’s got your voice.”

Margaret rolls her eyes at him.

“Seriously though, she’s got your nose, and do my eyes deceive me or is that brown hair on her head a similar shade to your roots?”

“Wow, she really does, and I’m going to ignore that last part. ”

“You did an amazing job” he says. He leans forward and kisses her tenderly, then rests his forehead against hers.

“What are we going to call her?”

“Well, how about Irene? It means peace in Greek, and we could all do with a little more peace, and then Margaret as her middle name, because if she’d got half the amount of strength you have, she’s in with a fighting chance.

“I’m not _that_ strong.”

“Oh, believe me, you are.”

Hawkeye hands her the baby and she feels her eyes mist over again as she looks down into her daughter’s ambiguously blue, unfocused eyes. She still has moments of waiting for all the good things to end, but wonders if maybe it’s just a symptom of caring enough to be scared of losing something. “Irene Margaret Pierce.” Margaret tries out the name,  “Welcome to the world, little one.”

She looks over at Hawkeye, “Take me home”

“But Margaret, they like people to stay at least a week…”

“I don’t care, I’ve spent enough time inside hospitals. Take me home.”

“Your wish is my command. Oh nurse...!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This epilogue business has grown so big that I should have just called it part 2 of the story, but anyhow, there will be a part 3!  
> I tried to be as faithful as I could in this to the time period. The only pain relief for giving birth was a general anaesthetic, so women would be put under and wake up sometime later with a baby, but it affected baby's respiratory system. Men weren't usually found in the delivery room, they were often at the pub or in a specific men's only waiting room (I couldn't see Hawkeye standing for taking a back seat like that), and it was considered normal for a woman to stay in hospital for minimum of a week. Often the mother would only see the baby at feeding time, and breastfeeding was mostly discouraged in favour of formula or condensed milk. (I couldn't imagine Margaret letting anyone run her life for that long, either, regardless of whatever choices she would or wouldn't make re feeding).


	8. Epilogue Part 3.

Margaret wakes with a start. She strains her ears briefly trying to figure out why she’s awake but doesn’t hear anything. She rolls over and discovers that Hawkeye’s not in bed. She’d last seen him when he’d offered to settle Irene after her last feed.

Something was off.

Margaret listened again and this time heard a choked sob. In a flash she launched herself out of bed and across the hall, into the baby’s room. She felt her heart stop at the sight before her. Hawkeye was sitting, sobbing in the rocking chair, with Irene lying motionless in his arms. For one terrifying moment she thought the worst had happened, that their daughter was dead, but a moment later the baby squirmed in her sleep. Margaret released the breath she’d been holding and the baby slept on, oblivious to her parents and their gathering stormclouds.

“Look at her,” Hawkeye croaked, “She’s so tiny, so fragile, so helpless. Sometimes I look down at her all I see is that baby, the baby on the bus. I told her to keep it quiet and she killed it, she smothered it! She snuffed out a tiny, innocent life because I told her to, a life as precious to her as Irene is to us! Imagine if we lost her, how would we live with ourselves, how would we survive? Even worse, what if  _ we  _ killed her somehow I…” Hawkeye’s voice is engulfed by more uncontrollable sobbing.

Margaret doesn’t have to try very hard to imagine. She feels her own tears choking her. Every threat, every danger, every horrific scenario a mind could conjure had taken on a new dimension since becoming a mother. It was no longer just “What if I get hurt?” but “What if it hurts my child?”, and that thought was the stuff of nightmares.

She moves quickly to Hawkeye’s side. She briefly considers removing Irene from his arms but thinks better of it. She crouches next to her and awkwardly pulls his head to her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. That poor woman was put in an awful position, she made an awful mistake. Maybe if she’d tried to nurse it instead, maybe if she’d rocked it, maybe if she’d used less pressure as she tried to muffle it’s cries, maybe if she’d never got on the bus - we’ll never know! And…” Margaret’s voice breaks with emotion, "I don't know how we'd survive, maybe we wouldn't. All we can do is try to protect her,  _ try _ not to hurt her. But sometimes life's not fair, and we have to bear the burden of knowing that." She's whispering by the time she finishes speaking. She clings to Hawkeye as they weep, their tears mingling together.

 

Irene started to stir, looking for her next feed. Her obvious signs of life a great to relief to her parents.

“Pass her here,” Margaret said quietly.

Hawkeye kissed his daughter before handing her over to Margaret, who was getting ready to nurse her. She squeezed Hawkeye’s hand with her free one. Hawkeye watched as the baby fed and marvelled that something so tiny, so impossibly helpless could even be alive, and moved to sit down on the floor next to Margaret. He puts one arm around her and uses the other to hold her hand and holds on tight. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves these two, and sometimes he’s terrified by it.

  
  


*

 

It was the weekend. The first thing Hawkeye noticed as he came downstairs was the quiet. Margaret was sitting at the dining room table, writing what looked like a letter, and there was no sign of Daniel or Irene. “Where’s dad?”

“He’s taken Irene out for a walk, no doubt wanting to show her off to anyone who’ll stop for a look.” Daniel was loving being a grandfather. When he was home, he and Irene were inseparable. In this situation, three adults were a definite advantage.

“What are you doing?”

Margaret let out a deep sigh, “Writing to my father.”

Hawkeye can see she’s stressed, “Are you okay?”

“Oh I’ll be fine. I just, I know he’s angry with me, he’ll have already figured out I’m not in the army anymore and why, he just won’t have know where to look. So after he’s finished blasting me for that he’ll start on my choice of bed partner and for being stupid enough to get pregnant to you. Part of me doesn’t even know why I’m writing to him, but I have to.”

“You could call him, get it over with…”

“If I do that he won’t listen to a word I say, he’ll just yell over the top of me. I don’t even know why I still care what he thinks.”

“Because he’s your dad.”

Margaret simply nods at this and picks up the letter and hands it to him so that he can read what she’s written so far.

 

_ Dear Dad, _

_ I hope this finds you well. You’ll have figured out by now that I’ve been discharged from the army; you’ll probably have even been told why. I hope you’ll forgive for not having contacted you myself, but I needed to figure some things out for myself, needed to find my own feet. You’ll no doubt remember Captain Pierce from my unit. He and I spent some time together in Korea which resulting in me becoming pregnant. I know that will make you angry. I wasn’t too pleased myself to begin with, but daddy, I hope you can understand that I now feel that this is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Irene Margaret Pierce was born on the 10th of March weighing 7 pounds 4 ounces, and she’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen _ .  _ We’re living in Crabapple Cove, Maine with Hawkeye and his dad, and are very happy. Hawkeye and I will be getting married next month and we’d love it if you could make it. I always wanted a summer wedding, and I’ve never seen a more perfect place to hold one than on the shores of Maine. _

 

_ All my love, _

 

_ Maggie. _

 

“It’s perfect.”

“I guess I should put our phone number on the bottom.”

“Nah, just give him the time, date and location for the wedding, and if he dares to make a scene then the others will run him off for us. Otherwise make him go to the trouble of looking it up.”

“I feel guilty.”

“Why? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Except sleep with you, fall in love with you and have your baby.”

“I’m sorry, but which part of that is wrong?”

She pulls him to her and kisses him aggressively just as Daniel opens the front door.

“Mommy, daddy, we’re ho...do you two ever stop?”

“No!” Hawkeye calls out as he reluctantly breaks the kiss.

"If they're not careful they'll give you another brother or sister." Daniel says, talking to Irene who is now almost 3 months old and staring at him with wide, blue eyes and a big smile.

 

  
*  
  


 

They get married in June, 1954 on a clear summer’s day. Instead of the reds and golds of their first walk, the trees are awash with every shade of green, and clear, blue water laps lazily at the shore of the cove. 

 

In the end it had been Margaret that had not asked, but stated that they should get married. It fitted. It was just more of their carefully crafted nonchalance towards most things big and meaningful. They'd left Irene at the clinic with Daniel and immediately gone ring shopping. Margaret had surprised herself. Hawkeye had tried to buy her the biggest, flashiest diamond in the store, but she said no. She was secure enough in their relationship that she didn’t need baubles or brass to tell her she was important. Hawkeye had beamed at her. She’d just passed a test that neither of them had been aware of until that moment.

 

Familiar faces begin to make their way into the clearing where they’d shared their first picnic. Everyone except Klinger had been able to make it. Well, Klinger and Frank, who’d not been invited. 

Klinger had instead sent her a dress as soon as he’d heard the news. She’d been mortified at first, it wasn’t white. Just what was he trying to say about her virtue? But once she’d unpacked it and put it on all was forgiven.

 

_ Dear Major,  _

_ I’m sorry that I can’t come to your wedding and see you and Hawkeye get married  (that’s a sentence no one thought they’d ever have to write). But when I saw this fabric I thought of you. I remembered how much you’d liked my pink dress and how good you looked in it. Besides, a party dress for the party event of the year, because there’s no way any wedding of Hawkeye Pierce won’t be a party. I know you’ll have a fabulous day. May you and him have a long and happy marriage. _

 

_ Maxwell Q. Klinger. _

 

The tea-length dress was the most beautiful shade of pale coral peach, and was covered in a layer of  cream tulle that had tiny leaves on it. It then had a broad, pink sash sewn around the middle, and a large bow on the back. If she could’ve, Margaret would’ve kissed that hook nosed pervert. It made a strange kind of sense that she’d marry Hawkeye Pierce in a pink, party dress with an oversized bow on the back.

 

The guests watched with rapt attention as the pair said their vows, with Father Mulcahy as the slightly shouty officiary. Most of them had already figured out he was deaf, they just pretended that they didn’t know. Colonel Potter had given away the bride and now sat between  his wife, Mildred, and Daniel and little Irene. Both of the men were crying.

 

“...you may kiss the bride.” The happy couple grinned at each other, eyes sparkling with mischief, before scooping each other up into a fairly faithful recreation of their goodbye kiss in Korea.

“Oh not again…” groaned BJ.

“Again?!” Exclaimed Trapper who was sitting right next to him. “This happened before?”

“How do you think they ended up with that baby?” The man had a point, but Trapper was still having trouble reconciling the Hawk and Hot Lips he’d left behind in Korea with this Hawk and Margaret. The guests erupted into cheering and applause.

As they broke the kiss and turned to look out over the guests, Margaret froze. There, standing at the back of the group, was her father. Hawkeye noticed the object of her gaze at and met the older man’s stare with a challenge and held it for a moment, the older man eventually gave a slight nod, conceding. 

She was his family now, and he was looking after her.

  
  
  


FIN


End file.
